Brody grabs my arm to help me up, a soft look in his eyes that jars me back to my right mind. I brush him off, straightening what’s left of my clothes and trying to hide the evidence of what happened to me while getting him off.
“Beckett–”
I scowl. What is this bastard doing to me? It has to be some kind of mind control tactic or something, but to stop using it as soon as he gets his rocks off is just rude. Let me come back to earth before you force me to process this shit.Damn.
His eyebrow raises and he straightens, the demonic look returning to his face. I look away, still lost in the headspace I wasswimming in only a moment ago. His hand comes up to grip my jaw.
“Next time you’re going to swallow what I give you and thank me for it, Beckett. No wasting a single drop.”
Next time?
Oh.
CHAPTER 12
BRODY
Sunday mornings on campus are dead. The sun is barely up, the air chilly and damp. The only idiots awake are me and Beckett. Of course he’s up. He’s probably been here since well before dawn.
I’m halfway through my warmup when the feeling of eyes on me becomes unbearable. All morning I’ve had that feeling, like a hand crawling up the length of my spine.
I glance up, and Beck jerks his gaze away so hard he almost falls off the rowing machine.
I smirk. Last night really did a number on him.
He tries to hide it, but there’s a little bounce in his step, a tiny hitch in his breath whenever I move. He refuses to smile at or even acknowledge me, but he’s got a glow about him that is unmistakable. A post-orgasm looseness that can’t be denied. He’s trying desperately to hide it, like he keeps catching himself looking happy and has to put a stop to it immediately. It’s adorable, honestly.
By the time we’re in the dining hall, it’s almost painful not to poke the bear. This early, there’s just fresh fruit, cereal, oatmealand baked goods, and a help-yourself offering of coffee and tea. Beckett has a hot cup of tea in his hand and is choosing from the fresh fruit display.
“You’re awfully peppy this morning,” I say as I slide up next to him and pick a banana.
He startles, almost dropping his tea. It takes him a few seconds to pull himself together.
“I—um—what?”
“You seem like you’re in a good mood.”
“Oh. Um, yeah, I guess. Nice day.”
It takes real effort to keep myself from smirking or looking at all smug.
“Couldn’t have anything to do with last night,” I say, peeling the banana slowly and making a show of opening my mouth to slide the banana in.
Beckett looks around as though we aren’t in a nearly empty dining hall. There’s only one other student in here, a swimmer based on the hoodie he’s wearing, and two cafeteria employees in the back.
Then he eyes me warily as I push the banana farther in my mouth. I don’t gag, and I don’t look away, keeping direct eye contact. He cuts his gaze away from me when the banana touches the back of my throat.
Trying not to snort, I pull the banana out and take a reasonable bite, winking when Beckett chances another glance at me. He moves farther down the line, giving a bowl of apples a thorough inspection.
“How many times have you jerked off today already?” I ask when I’ve swallowed down half of my banana.
His eyes widen into saucers, and he quickly glances around us again. Which just confirms it for me. My smug smirk can’t help but make an appearance, and I grin like a wolf that’s been handed someone’s pet rabbit.
“Come on, Becky… tell me.”
I didn’t actually mean to call him Becky. Beck was about to slip out, and I waited too long to add on the “ett” and got tongue-tied. But my guy freezes. His lips part, and a full-body shudder runs over him at the accidental name slip.
Oh, shit. He liked that. I felt that shudder in my gut. And lower.
